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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28322895">A Bucky bear for Christmas</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessly_me/pseuds/hopelessly_me'>hopelessly_me</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Avenger Clint, Barney is a jerk, Cap swears and that's how I like him, Clint is in a constant state of being hurt I swear they take bets, Clint through the years, Clint's crummy childhood, Deaf Clint, Doing the Right Thing, Found Family, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Maria is a Good Bro, Mild Language, Phil Is a Good Bro, Shield agent clint, Teasing, additional tag added because Squaddy, brief mention of alcohol, brief mention of child abuse, brief mention of smoking, bunny stuffie, circus clint, heart to heart, holiday party, i present to you feelings, learning positive coping mechanisms, little kid Clint, mostly focuses around Clint, oh god the feelings, tripping down stairs is peak Barton idc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:09:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,627</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28322895</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessly_me/pseuds/hopelessly_me</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Throughout the years, all Clint wanted for Christmas was one toy after his favorite superhero- a Bucky bear.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>172</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Bucky bear for Christmas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1)</p><p>It was the last day of kindergarten before Christmas break and Clint couldn’t help but feel miserable. School had become a safe place for Clint to go where he could spend hours of his day and not worry about being too loud or too rowdy. Of course, he was neither of those things really but sometimes he would push the envelope- sometimes he would speak a little louder, laugh a little harder, play a little rougher. He had made some friends, or so he thought- he wasn’t allowed to see them outside of school hours but while he was in school he could at least play with them.</p><p>Clint was at the table, scribbling drawings of people he had only heard about, seen on lunch pails or backpacks. Superheroes were his favorite thing now, even if he didn’t get to watch the Saturday morning cartoons like the other kids but his mother did let him pick out books at the library and when Barney wasn’t in one of his moods he would help Clint read them. Sometimes Barney or his mother would help fill his hours when his father wasn’t home with tales of bad guys getting whooped by the good guys. Clint knew exactly what he wanted to be when he grew up. He wanted to be just like all his favorite superheroes.</p><p>Every kid knew about Captain America- he was the coolest superhero there was. But Clint had a different favorite superhero- he liked Bucky Barnes, Captain America’s sidekick. While all his friends pretended to fling around the shield, Clint dreamt of what it would be like to be Bucky. He got to go on all the cool adventures, he got to stop the bad guys. But there was one thing about Bucky Barnes that stood out to Clint the most. He was human, plain and simple. He didn’t have any special superpowers, he wasn’t a super soldier. Bucky Barnes was just like Clint- he was just a person who was doing amazing things. That was something Clint wanted to do- it was something he <em> could </em> do, right?</p><p>“Okay everyone, it’s show and tell time,” Clint’s teacher announced. </p><p>While all the other kids excitedly cleaned up their mess, Clint took his time. He didn’t have anything special to show off like everyone else in the class. He didn’t have any good stories about what he would be doing during his time off. Clint certainly knew better than to say most of his time off would be spent up in his room, making as little noise as possible.</p><p>Clint went to his backpack and looked at the item he had brought with him. It was a stuffed bunny he had gotten as a baby and had ever since. It used to be Barney’s and now it was his, handed down from their great-grandmother and down to his grandma, to his mom and now… Clint looked at the dull eyes, the worn fabric of his Bun-bun, his fingers gently running over its face. Then he zipped up the bag, leaving Bun-bun safely tucked away inside, and joined the rest of his class.</p><p>His teacher gave him a questioning look, just like the last time they had show and tell, and Clint only shrugged. She knew better than to ask if he wanted to talk about what his plans were- Clint wasn’t much of a talker when it came to school. So he sat and listened to the other kids, sometimes missing words as his ears decided to go in and out. Clint reached up and tugged on the one, rubbed the earlobe, but nothing ever seemed to work.</p><p>Just when Clint was ready to tune everyone else, Elijah in class held up the item he brought in for show and tell and Clint’s eyes lit up. “This is my Bucky Bear. My mom bought it for me for my birthday.”</p><p>Clint had never known such a thing existed. It was a stuffed bear with a big black mask over its eyes with a big red nose. His outfit was just like in the stories, all red and blue. He looked so <em> soft </em>, just like Bun-bun. Clint barely heard what his classmate was saying as he stared at the bear. He had never wanted something so badly in his life. It was perfect in every way.</p><p>When class had ended and Clint found Barney, he told him all about the bear. Barney didn’t interact much about it outside of a forced smile and an occasion “oh yeah” but he never once told Clint to shut up about it. Clint took his big brother’s hand as they walked home.</p><p>That night Clint’s father never came home- he was out on a major haul. It was perhaps one of the happiest days of Clint’s life. When his mother finally got him into pajamas and tucked away into bed, she sat down on the edge and smoothed back his hair.</p><p>“I never did ask- did you tell Santa what you wanted for Christmas?”</p><p>Clint didn’t believe in Santa, he never had. Clint, however, put on a smile and faked it for his mother. He cuddled Bun-bun tightly to his chest. “Yeah!” he exclaimed.</p><p>“And what is it you want this year?” his mother asked, her hand resting on his chest.</p><p>“I want a Bucky bear for Christmas.”</p><p>“A Bucky bear? Oh, that sounds so nice.” His mother leaned down and kissed his forehead, lingering there. She smelled like the cookies she had made earlier today, sneaking them in to make the day extra special. If nothing else, Clint knew his mother tried despite it all. “Go to sleep, Clint. And hopefully Santa hears your wish and brings you a Bucky bear.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>That year for Christmas Clint got socks, pants that were actually in his size instead of his brother’s old hand me downs, and a black eye. Merry Christmas to him.</p><p>
  <br/>
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</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>2) </p><p> </p><p>Clint ducked and weaved his way around under the grandstand, quickly approaching a height to where moving about wouldn’t be so easy anymore. It was a good thing he was flexible otherwise his night would be an absolute disaster. His eyes peered through the legs and handbags to glance at the ring, trying to keep track of where everything was so he wasn’t late for his job… again. Clint was pretty sure if he missed his mark again they were actually going to beat him this time.</p><p>Clint was twelve now and living out some of his best days, not that they really had much competition. His brother convinced him to run away from the foster care system a few short months after being there, and four years later he was still enjoying the circus. It was a lot of work and very little pay, but it beat the abuse everywhere else. And he wasn’t expected to go to school which was good because he couldn’t focus in class anyway. Between his hearing issues and his lack of focus, Clint was barely scraping by with a solid D anyway. But who needed school when you could have this?</p><p>Maybe it wasn’t a normal life but to Clint it was everything. He learned how to keep his flexibility up, he learned not to be scared of heights, and that soaring through the rafters was a thrill he was never going to tire of. He learned how to fight, how to think quicker, smarter. Most importantly, at least to Clint, was he was learning how to trust a little bit again. He was making friends, people who wouldn’t judge him just because he couldn’t hear. The most he got teased about was his singing- which yeah, it was terrible but it was freeing. He had never been allowed to be so loud before in his life and now he could. If he wanted to whistle, he could. If he wanted to shout, more the power to you. As long as he did his job, no one cared what the youngest Barton boy did.</p><p>The big house was packed that night, just a few short days before Christmas. Clint had seen people arrive in their Sunday best, men in suits or vests, women in dresses. There was so much cheer around that it was hard to be sad about everything else in life. There were more lights that usual, casting red and green and blue glows off of tents and walls, lights hanging around the different attractions set up. This was an unusually warm year, the circus was staying open longer than normal, and it almost felt like there was magic in the air.</p><p>Clint paused on his stroll when he saw a very familiar object laying on the ground and his eyes widened. Right there, almost in pristine condition, was a Bucky bear. The same one he had seen when he was five, the same one he wanted but never got. Clint ran over and snatched it off the ground, holding it at an arm’s length distance away to check it out. His heart swelled before he slowly pulled it in and held it to his chest. Someone had dropped it and what harm could it really do? Certainly whoever’s parents had enough money to buy them a new one.</p><p>Clint scrambled to tuck his shirt into his pants and drop the bear down the back for safe keepings. He weaved his way through the posts- he had a job to do after all which meant he needed to keep the bear safe until he could make it to his trailer at night. As much as he wanted to go back now, store it away safely, Clint knew that wasn’t exactly an option.</p><p>Clint went about his day, running from here to there, doing his tasks. Occasionally he would check on Bucky bear, make sure it was really still with him, make sure it was actually the real deal. Clint sat up on the rafters between sets and pulled the bear out, checking it over. The domino mask looked a little worn, like that was someone’s favorite spot to touch, along with the worn red nose. And it smelled like heaven- it smelled light and airy, like freshly cleaned laundry. Clint took a deep breath to breathe it in before he went back to work.</p><p>The night was winding down and the crowds were finally thinning. Clint was tired, worn to the bone from all the activity. All he wanted was to crawl into bed with his newly acquired treasure, tuck it in with Bun-bun, and get a good night’s rest.</p><p>A child crying pulled Clint’s attention and he carefully made his way back towards the big tent. Inside was a little girl, maybe around the age of seven. She was clutching her father’s hand, covering her eyes with her free arm.</p><p>“It’s okay sweetheart,” her father tried to say soothingly.</p><p>“I lost Buck-bear,” the little girl sobbed.</p><p>“Honey, it’s going to be okay,” her mother said, crouched down on the little girl’s level.</p><p>“No it’s not! Pop-pop gave him to me,” the little girl said, choking up.</p><p>Clint frowned and hid around the side before he pulled the bear out of his shirt. He held the bear between his hands and frowned. This bear was so well loved, so cared for that a little girl was crying over her loss. He turned the bear in his hands before he peeked around the corner and watched as the devastated girl tried to calm herself down, taking deep breaths and sniffling.</p><p>Clint walked around the entrance and plastered a shaky smile on his face. “H-hi,” he said, drawing their attention. “I found this-”</p><p>“Buck-buck!” the little girl shouted, pulling away from her parents and running to Clint. She took the bear and held it against her chest, cuddling it as she cried softly. “You’re okay,” she told the bear.</p><p>“Oh my, where did you find him?” the little girl’s mother asked.</p><p>“He fell under the grandstand,” Clint answered with a shrug. “It’s no big deal.”</p><p>“Honey, what do we say?” the little girl’s mother asked.</p><p>Clint wasn’t expecting it when the smaller child crashed into him, hugging him tightly. Clint blinked before he patted her back awkwardly. “Thank you,” she said before she planted a kiss to his cheek. She ran back to her parents and leapt, her father waiting for it. He laughed and smiled, cuddling her close.</p><p>“Thank you, young man,” the father said.</p><p>That night, Clint climbed into his bed and picked up his stuffed bunny. It was the only thing he still owned from his life before the circus, the only thing he really didn’t want to give up. He would have loved to come into this trailer, set up Bucky bear next to Bun-bun. It may have sounded silly, maybe verging on stupid, but he wanted his Bun-bun to have a friend, someone to sit next to when Clint was away.</p><p>“When did you get in?” Barney asked, sounding cranky and tired. He sat down loudly, taking his boots off. He smelled like booze and everything Clint hated in life. Barney did that now that he was fifteen- he smoked and drank, was more moody, and reminded Clint more of his father every day. It scared Clint what that could mean for the long run. He had already lost his parents, he didn’t want to lose Barney too.</p><p>Clint didn’t answer right away, which was a mistake. He heard Barney huff and get up before he felt a hand on his shoulder, pinning him down. “You know you are too old for this, right?” Barney said with a bit of a smirk before he ripped Bun-bun from his hands.</p><p>“Hey! It’s mine! Leave it alone,” Clint shouted, struggling to get up and snatch Bun-bun away. </p><p>“What are you? A girl?” Barney taunted. With a wicked grin, Barney let go of Clint and took off for outside.</p><p>“Come back here!” Clint was up and running, ignoring the way the gravel under his feet cut at his feet. Barney might be older, but Clint was faster on his feet. He reached for Bun-bun and tried to pull it away.</p><p>“Awww, do you want your stuffie?” Barney mocked, trying to tug it back to him.</p><p>“Stop! Mom gave it to me!” Clint begged, trying to pull it back to him.</p><p>That was when he heard a terrible noise, a noise that brought such a sense of dread. It was almost like living in slow motion as Clint watched the stuffing fly out from the rip between the body and the head. Barney stilled as well, looking just as shocked as Clint was. And then, Clint’s vision blurred from all the tears.</p><p>“Clint, I-” Barney said.</p><p>“I hate you!” Clint shouted before he shoved Barney. “I hate you and I hate that you are starting to become dad!”</p><p>“Hey, fuck you. I’m nothin’ like him!” Barney shouted back, shoving Clint.</p><p>“Yeah you are! You are jus’ like’ ‘im,” Clint said.</p><p>Clint didn’t even see that hit that was coming until it was too late.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>That Christmas spent in silence. Barney tried to talk to him, tried giving Clint a sewn up Bun-bun. But the damage was already done. Nothing was ever going to be the same between them as far as Clint was concerned. Clint stared at the stitched up neck before he headed outside and tossed the stuffed animal into the whittling down bonfire. The people around it, the people that knew Clint well enough, went quiet. Without a word, Clint headed back inside and sat curled up on his bed.</p><p>Barney came in late and for the third day in a row he didn’t smell like alcohol. He sat down on the edge of Clint’s bed. “Hey,” he said just loud enough for Clint to hear. Clint forced himself to look at his brother but he couldn’t offer him a smile, or anything more than a glare. “It’s Christmas. You still want that Bucky bear?” he asked.</p><p>Clint could tell him the truth maybe- that a Bucky bear was the only thing he had ever wanted from the age of five up until now. But without Bun-bun in his life anymore, he wasn’t sure what the point was. Bucky bear would be alone now, just like how Clint felt.</p><p>“No. I’m too old for that stuff,” Clint answered.</p><p>“But he’s your favorite superhero,” Barney tried to argue, forcing a smile, trying to make Clint feel better.</p><p>“There’s no such thing as superheroes anyway. All they are are people who are going to get taken advantage of anyway, just like Bucky,” Clint said before he kicked at his covers to wiggle his way under, ending the conversation.</p><p>
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</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>3)</p><p> </p><p>There was something about New York that struck Clint with a sense of awe. He had traveled through parts of Europe and yet coming back to New York always left him craving more. Part of it was the people. Sure, they could get a little carried away, they could be too loud, too rushed, too everything really; but in the same breath he had seen so many of these people literally give their clothing over to the people in need, seen them band together for some reason or another. There was an unmistakable vibe unique to New York, and that was the reason why Clint moved to Bed-Stuy when he was permitted to live off a S.H.I.E.L.D. base.</p><p>Clint had been recruited two years ago, back when he was twenty. Before that he was running around, mostly working as a merc, mostly working his way through a band of people that he really couldn’t stand. As he got older he got bigger, taller, stronger and he had developed skills that aided him in making some people’s day turn from alright to bad in a short snap. </p><p><em> He could become one of our greatest agents. He’s got the talent, he just needs the drive and the focus </em> . That’s what Coulson had said to Fury as the two men stared at him on the other side of a cell. Clint hadn't been so sure they could rehab him to the point they needed him to- he felt so lost and beaten down that he wasn’t sure there was a point. Fury’s only words at that first meeting were <em> you better be right about this, Phil </em>.</p><p>From that moment, Clint was given a new shot and he took it. He worked hard, he kept his head down but his eyes open. For the first time in his life he got properly fitting, and working, hearing aids. He saw doctors and psychologists, people that put him on the right combination of medications. Probably most importantly, he found people willing to work with him and his quirks. There wasn’t much yelling outside of the occasional frustrations, nor did Coulson tell him how much of a screw up he was. There was patience and understanding, and making him understand situations. It was slowly erasing all of the things he had learned and rewriting them so Clint had the tools to make a better version of himself.</p><p>Now, two years later, he was finally trusted enough to leave the base and live on his own. He wasn’t a flight risk. He picked Bed-Stuy because it felt more like home. Downtown New York was too busy, too loud, but his section of town? It was still a little busy but it was quiet, and from the rooftop he could see all the lights of the city peeking through the buildings around him. He was finding his favorite restaurants, the closest grocery store, and the coffee shop that made the best roast he had ever tasted.</p><p>That day, however, Clint was walking around Manhattan, Coulson and Hill with him. It wasn’t for a mission, which was a little weird- they wanted to come into town for shopping themselves and, well, Clint had a place they would crash at. It was awkward at first- Clint wasn’t sure where exactly his relationship with them began and ended; if they were just coworkers or if maybe they could be something a little more. As the day progressed, Clint began to sink into the playful banter between Hill and Coulson who apparently had known each other for a little too long.</p><p>“Hey, I need to pop in here for Lucy,” Maria Hill said, turning to look at Phil and Clint. </p><p>Clint looked at the storefront before he looked up at the big sign. F.A.O. Schwarz. He had never been in this shop though he always intended so. He thought it would be weird as an adult to come alone. However, Christmas time was perfect because of course adults would be in there- they were, after all, buying presents for children.</p><p>“Yeah, alright.”</p><p>The store was packed to the gills, leaving Clint feeling a little on the nervous side. He hated crowds, he hated all the noise. He reached up and fiddled with his hearing aids, contemplating taking them out. The dull, muffled noises would almost be better than the loud chatter, the children screaming, the everything that was happening. It was sensory overload and Clint almost on instinct reached out and grabbed Phil’s arm.</p><p>“Need to wait outside?” Phil asked. He never asked Clint anything in a judgemental way, it was always polite, understanding, giving him a choice. It was probably why Fury never changed Phil over from being his handler- Phil seemed to be one of the few agents in all of S.H.I.E.L.D. to actually get Clint and all his little hiccups, all the things that made him tick.</p><p>“No. Just… need a second,” Clint answered.</p><p>“Here.” Phil moved them to a quieter spot where people were less prone to bump into them. From that spot, Clint was able to adjust, calm himself back and find an even footing. “You good?”</p><p>“Yeah. I’m good. Thanks,” Clint said, looking down before he looked up. “Text me? I’m going to go look around.”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>Clint gave him a shaky smile before he took a few steps away, slow, hesitant, before he knew it was fine. Phil was going to respect the alone time Clint needed, he wasn’t going to hover. Maria had already left them in the dust it seemed. It was all fine, it was good- this was all part of learning.</p><p>Clint looked at the toys and the trinkets. Train sets were set up, running on tracks and making small noises barely audible over the constant chatter. Little Christmas villages were scattered about, little lights and figurines skating on fake ice. It was like a few movies Clint had watched from back in the day. He wondered if his grandparents had ever had things like these, or if his parents grew up with items like this. He knew he certainly never had.</p><p>There were stuffed animals ranging in size from small to almost as tall as he was. In fact, there was one giraffe that was taller. Clint couldn’t help the smile it brought to his face as he dug his camera out and managed to snap a photo of him with it. He paused at a small stuffed bunny, almost like his Bun-bun except cleaner, fresher, it’s fur not matted down from years of cuddles and tears. Clint picked it up and smiled at it.</p><p>That’s when his eyes caught something nearby. He set the bunny down and walked over before he picked up the stuffed bear, dressed in red and blue. The domino mask looked the same as ever, the red nose a little smaller than it had once been. But it was almost a perfect replica of the bear he had wanted over fifteen years ago. It was a Bucky bear. Next to it was a few books, all about the man behind the stuffie. Next to him was a few books about Captain America with a picture of a bear that was clearly sold out.</p><p>Clint smiled at the bear and ran his fingers over the fur. He wondered what Maria and Phil would say if he got in line with the bear. If anything this was dangerous territory for his friendship with Phil; he guy was the biggest Captain America nerd there was, which meant he knew all about Bucky Barnes. Clint wasn’t sure he was ready for that stage of their friendship, the possible chats for hours when really, Clint’s memories of Bucky Barnes and the bear were distant memories, clouded by pain.</p><p>“Oh no, they are sold out,” a boy said with a groan. </p><p>Clint had stepped away on instinct when someone had gotten close, he hadn’t noticed who it was. He looked over at the small boy and his heartstrings pulled. He was young, maybe six. He wore clothes a little too big, his hair a little too wild, his everything a little too off. His jacket looked thin. It brought back all those memories from when Clint was that age, was in the kid’s shoes.</p><p>“It’s okay honey, we will find one someday,” his mother said. In a way, the woman looked like Clint’s mom. She looked tired, worn to the bone, but she faked that bright smile for her child’s sake.</p><p>“Yeah… okay,” the boy said a little skeptically. “Maybe Santa will bring me one. He knows what I want, right momma?”</p><p>“That’s right,” she said, brushing his hair back and kissing his forehead. “Come on. Let’s see if I can find something small for your cousin.”</p><p>Clint watched them go before he looked at the Bucky bear still in his hands. He looked up and made a lap back to the other stuffed animals, grabbing a bunny from the shelf before he went to the cash register. “Can I get the bear gift wrapped, please?” Clint requested.</p><p>“Of course. Is this for a special little boy or girl?” the cashier asked to make conversation while she counted out his change.</p><p>“I sure hope so,” Clint answered.</p><p>Clint walked all around that store trying to find the boy and his mother. Just when he was giving up hope he saw them as they exited. He darted past customers, muttering apologies as he went. He danced past a small crowd.</p><p>“Hey, ma’am, excuse me,” Clint called, jogging to catch up, slowing upon approach. The woman held onto her boy’s hand tightly, looking a little on the scared side. Clint gave her his best smile and held out a bag with the wrapped up gift in it. “I think you forgot this.”</p><p>“We didn’t buy nuffin,” the young boy said.</p><p>“Oh, no, not today. She was in there a little while ago. Must have forgot to pick up her order, that’s all,” Clint said as evenly as he could. “I never forget a face.” The woman looked shocked. “She said there was a special boy in her life and she wanted to make his day. She said that he deserved the world if she could get it for him. I am going to assume that boy must be you.”</p><p>The boy’s eyes lit up and he looked up at his mother. Clint looked up as well and read her face before he smiled a little more gently. “It takes a village. Sometimes you just happen to be at the right place, at the right time.”</p><p>Clint was thankful when the woman reached out and took the bag. “Are you sure?” she asked.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m sure,” Clint answered. “Have a happy holiday season.” Clint watched the two go before he smiled and ducked his head. “I know you are watching me.”</p><p>“That was honestly the sweetest thing I have ever seen.” Clint thought for sure it was Phil, and was surprised when it was in fact Maria who had been watching him. Clint turned around and smiled at her. “Do you want to talk about it?” she offered. Clint wasn’t sure what expression was on his face anymore until he felt a tear track down. He reached up and brushed it up.</p><p>“Just… trying to do better for those around me,” he said. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. Maria hadn’t earned that level of trust yet- none of them had except his therapist but that was because he was required to see her and what was he supposed to do? Sit there quietly? “Find what you were looking for?” he asked, changing the subject.</p><p>“That and more,” Maria answered. “Let’s find Phil and keep shopping.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Christmas Eve rolled around, Clint sat on the rooftop of his Bed-Stuy apartment, feet dangling off the edge. For the first time in a long time, Clint didn’t dread the holiday. He was actually looking forward to it. He was going to be alone, sure, but he was going to be warm, and safe, and there were people on his side that would have his back no matter what. He might not be fully there yet, but Clint was pretty sure he was starting to find that family he had always wanted.</p><p>Clint looked down at the book in his hands and ran his fingers over the cover. Maybe he was destined to never have a Bucky bear, it just wasn’t in his cards. But tonight he had a new stuffed animal bunny to his side, Bun-bun 2.0 if you will, and in his hands was a book on the man himself.</p><p>Clint opened it up. Inside were more cartoon characters of the man Clint had grown up idolizing. He could remember growing up wanting to be Bucky Barnes. Now Clint wanted to be who he was, Clint Barton. He wanted to be the guy that lived life balancing a warm, welcoming smile and a lethal accuracy. He didn’t need to be Bucky Barnes to be a hero- he could do that all on his own. He smiled and thought that if Bucky Barnes was still alive he would buy him a beer, helping him get through the hard times before admitting that while Bucky might have been a hell of a shot, Clint was leagues better and he did it with a <em> bow </em>. </p><p>“Alright Bun-bun,” Clint said. “Let’s see how accurate this book is, shall we?” he asked the stuffed animal at his side, his legs swinging over the edge. “James Buchanan Barnes- ha, Buchanan. A middle name worse than mine. <em> Francis </em>.” Clint snorted. “Loser. Anyway, James Buchanan Barnes was born March 10th, 1917 to Winnifred and George-”</p><p>
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</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>4)</p><p> </p><p>Clint laid out on top of the roof of Avengers Tower, his face towards the sky. He missed the wide open fields he had grown up with at times. There he could look up and see the stars, be in awe of how the universe was made. He missed the time he was in Finland and got shot because he had seen a glimpse of the Northern Lights and was enchanted by it. He missed the days where he had less responsibility, when he could walk down the street and absolutely no one knew him. Now that he was an Avenger, he wasn’t so lucky.</p><p>It was his first time spending the holiday season with his new family, if you wanted to call them that. The feeling of not fully trusting them was still there, still kept Clint on the edge of having to be careful what he did or said around any of them. But they had seen him at his lowest and they had all built him up from there. He had known this group of people for almost two years now and yet he knew that despite all the inner fighting, the power struggles, the trying to figure out exactly how they fit, Clint knew that everything was going to be okay.</p><p>The door to the roof opened and Clint arched his back and looked at Steve as he walked out onto the deck. Clint smiled before he sat up slowly and not without a groan. With a groan himself, Steve took up the spot next to Clint and braced his hands behind his back.</p><p>“You can tell me to leave,” Steve offered after a few moments of silence, dropping a blanket between them as well as a thermos.</p><p>“And miss a chance to cuddle Mister America under a blanket? Fat chance,” Clint said, laughing when Steve did. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m fine. Just thought I’d come out and see what all the Christmas lights look like from up here.”</p><p>Steve fiddled with the blanket until he got it over both of their laps and he looked out around the city too. “Little underwhelming, don’t you think?”</p><p>“I feel like, on principle, I need to disagree with you but…” Clint smiled and picked up the thermos and took a sip. “You made hot chocolate?” he asked.</p><p>“The way my mother used to make it,” Steve answered.</p><p>“Without burning the Tower down?” Clint asked in a playful manner. “You have someone in the kitchen supervising?” Steve rolled his eyes and sighed. “Thank you. It’s…” The words became stuck, just like they always had.</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>Out of everyone in the Tower, minus Natasha of course, Clint believed Steve when he said he knew what Clint wanted to say but couldn’t. Despite all the heckling and getting under Steve’s skin, this wasn’t the first time they had a quiet moment together. It was unexpected but it was nice. Clint was still trying to puzzle out the logistics behind it.</p><p>Steve needed someone, that Clint knew. Clint couldn’t imagine what it had to be like, waking up and everything you once knew was so different. Life moved on while Steve was frozen in time, and now he was forced to learn it all over again. Worse yet, he was forced to learn it all over again while having a sense of purpose and expectations he had to live up to. So Steve needed someone and somehow Clint became that someone. At first it made him nervous- hot off the heels of the Battle of New York, Clint was looking for a reason to quit it all. Now Clint was grateful for these moments, even if he couldn’t articulate it properly.</p><p>“The holidays are hard now,” Steve admitted. “They were before, but now it’s for a different reason.” </p><p>Clint glanced over at Steve’s moonlit face, the strange look playing out. He wasn’t exactly stuck in a memory, but the far away was there just under the stoic surface. Clint let him be quiet for a minute before he leaned over, his shoulder against Steve’s. When Steve leaned into it, Clint leaned his head over until it was rested against Steve’s, feeling the gentle push back as Steve eased into it as well. </p><p>“Times were hard back when I was a kid. My mother was a single mom. Bucky’s family- they helped when mom died.” Steve took a deep breath. “I always thought I would come home from the war with Bucky. That maybe we would move to the same town and just… breathe. We never much got a chance to do that.”</p><p>“You vaguely talk about him a lot,” Clint pointed out.</p><p>“He’s my Natasha,” Steve answered.</p><p>“Oh, well, when you put it that way,” Clint teased, “he sounds terrifying.”</p><p>“He was amazing,” Steve said with a sad smile and a sigh, moving his head to dip it down towards his chest. “He would hate me for it, but I still blame myself. If I hadn’t have- ow! What the fuck?” Steve shouted, shoving Clint away after Clint pinched him.</p><p>“First… language.”</p><p>“Fuck off.”</p><p>“Second… you said he would hate you for blaming yourself, right?” Clint asked. “So if he’d hate you for it, then I might as well be that person for you, right? So you talk like that again, I’m going for a nipple.”</p><p>Steve stared at Clint before he bursted out with a laugh, his face lifting towards the sky. Clint smiled and slid closer to Steve so he could soak in more of his heat. Steve wrapped an arm around his back, holding him close.</p><p>“You remind me of him sometimes,” Steve admitted.</p><p>“Want to hear something slightly pathetic?” Clint asked, Steve raised an eyebrow before he hummed. It was a little nerve wracking to think Clint was going to let Steve a little closer, reveal a secret that wasn’t damaging but somehow felt like it could be. But Steve was worth it- they all were, and when was a better time than on the roof, alone, sharing a moment? “When I was a kid all I wanted was a Bucky bear for Christmas. I remember my brother and my mother reading me the books. I thought he was the coolest- cooler than you even.”</p><p>Steve turned a little to smile more fully at Clint. “That’s not pathetic,” he said.</p><p>“You have no idea how deeply committed to the idea of being like him was,” Clint pointed out.</p><p>“So tell me.” </p><p>Steve picked up the thermos and took a long drink, giving Clint time to think. There was a lot he could say, and a lot he wasn’t sure he wanted to. There were the happy times, the not-so-happy times, and every mood sprinkled in between. But if there was one person aside from Natasha that Clint was comfortable being vulnerable with, it was Steve.</p><p>“I guess I thought he was a superhero that I was most like,” Clint answered. “He didn’t have any super powers, nothing to make him special. He was just brave. I figured that was something I could learn to become. Brave.”</p><p>Steve was quiet again and Clint was fine with that. It wasn’t awkward as they sat together, looking out at the city skyline, at all the lights that masked the starry view. Clint knew this was all a fleeting moment in his life, that sooner or later he would retire out, hopefully while he was ahead of the game, and he could move somewhere where he could see the stars again.</p><p>“You became that and more,” Steve said just loud enough for Clint to catch on. “I know you hate it, so I won’t dwell on it but Clint… you’re more than just brave.”</p><p>“You make me blush and I’m going to be pissed, Cap,” Clint said, pulling the blanket up to his face, his arms working on autopilot.</p><p>“Are you two up here confessing your love for each other or something?”</p><p>Clint turned and smiled at Tony. “Wanna be the first one to hear it? Gonna get jealous?” he taunted back.</p><p>“Share.” Tony sat down next to Clint, demanding some of the blanket. Clint would complain about it if it wasn’t for the fact that he was currently in the middle, getting warmed up on both sides. “What are we talking about?”</p><p>“Steve’s old best friend and me growing up wanting to be a superhero. And look at me, I got half of that right,” Clint said with a smile. “And how there are way too many lights here. I need stars.”</p><p>“Next year we should all try to take a vacation somewhere together, see the stars,” Steve suggested.</p><p>“Without science talk of how they are made or anything,” Clint added.</p><p>“I’m used to you making fun of Cap. Please go back to that,” Tony commented.</p><p>“I am very much an equal opportunity offender,” Clint argued before he bumped into Tony. “Alright- your turn about Christmas. Steve’s were hard but not like they are now. I’ve always wanted a Bucky bear. You’re at bat, Ironsas.”</p><p>“What are we doing?” Natasha asked, interrupting before Tony could get a word out.</p><p>“Sitting around bullshitting,” Steve summarized. “Still got room if you want to crawl in.”</p><p>Slowly, they were all out there. Bruce, Natasha, Thor, Tony, Steve. All sharing holiday stories with each other. The things they wanted, the things they had done. The promises that next year maybe they could try to decorate the communal spaces together, go on vacation together.</p><p>All of it was soft. Clint got up about an hour later, excusing himself to find a spot to breathe again. It was everything Clint had wanted without ever wanting to admit it. Acceptance, family, friends, five more reasons to strive to be better. Clint leaned against the door of his apartment with a smile on his face.</p><p>A soft knock came and Clint didn’t bother to check who it was. He let Natasha in and followed her down to his bedroom. They changed in silence and crawled into his bed. Natasha carefully picked up Bun-bun, giving Clint a questioning look before she hugged it to her chest and turned onto her side. Clint followed her, wrapping an arm around her and closing his eyes.</p><p>Maybe this year he still wouldn’t get that Bucky bear, but it didn’t matter anymore; Clint was learning he had something better now.</p><p>
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</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>5)</p><p> </p><p>The party was loud and vibrant and full of life. Clint stood near the Christmas tree and watched as his family enjoyed the holiday season. Tony, Steve, Bruce, Sam, and Natasha were in the middle of a very spirited game of Uno, a game that should probably be banned from the team if Clint were being honest. Card games in general should be banned because they always ended with someone cheating and the world going to chaos. Wanda, Pietro, Thor, Kate, America, Peter. Kamala, and Rhodey were all watching Christmas movies, all talking over each other. </p><p>Even Carol was there, standing in the middle like Clint was, smiling that soft smile. She was the newest person to join them when she had time, still learning how everyone worked. When she caught Clint’s eye he awkwardly raised his right arm in greeting, waving his bright purple cast around. Carol’s eyes danced from amusement and she headed his way.</p><p>“What did you do this time?” Carol asked with a quizitive brow.</p><p>“Oh, you know, the usual. Fell down some stairs,” Clint answered. Carol’s lips twitched. “No, I did this time. It was great. Natasha was so angry. Tony wouldn’t stop laughing.” Clint dug a marker out of his pocket and held it out. “Great power, great responsibility.”</p><p>Carol plucked the marker from Clint and looked for a blank spot. “Only you,” she said, scribbling her name and slicing it with an arrow for Clint’s benefit before she handed the capped marker back. “You don’t seem… involved tonight.”</p><p>“Waiting for someone,” Clint answered with a shrug of his shoulders. Carol’s eyebrows came down before she gave a knowing <em> oh </em> sound and patted his shoulder. “I’m sure he’s fine though.”</p><p>“I’m sure he is,” Carol agreed. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to Clint’s cheek. “Happy holidays, Clint.”</p><p>“Same to you, Carol.”</p><p> Clint gave her a warm smile just as the doors opened. T’Challa, Shuri, Okoye, and Ramonda walked in, bringing with them more food and more gifts. The room erupted in holiday greetings. Clint couldn’t help but to watch Peter and Shuri together before he caught Okoye looking. The two smiled a knowing smile before they nodded to each other in greeting. Clint was still trying to get used to the Wakandians. They were nice but sometimes their accents made it a little hard for him to pick up what they were saying, especially Shuri since she had the tendency to talk fast.</p><p>“Happy holiday, Clinton,” Ramonda said when she came up to him, talking loudly and slowly. Clint hated to admit it but she was probably his favorite out of all of them.</p><p>“Should I call you queen or-” Clint teased, Ramonda giving him a scolding look for a moment before she smiled a warm smile and opened her arms. Clint stepped up into them and hugged her tightly. “Happy holidays, Ramonda. I hope you are all staying a little while this year.”</p><p>“Just a few days before we must head back,” she acknowledged.</p><p>“Clinton!” Clint nearly jumped at the loudness behind him and he turned. “You should have come to Wakanda. I could fix that for you in a snap,” Shuri scolded teasingly. “I want to sign it.”</p><p>“Good thing I have a marker and there’s a little bit more space left,” Clint said, digging it out.</p><p>After another hour of watching everyone, Clint slipped out of the communal space and headed for the roof. He just needed a moment to breath. He walked to the railing and leaned against it, taking in the lights of the city. Everything seemed so big on street level but here? Just like every other year he had been at the Tower for the holiday season, everything looked so small.</p><p>It was fast approaching eleven, Christmas Day almost coming to an end. Clint couldn’t help but feel a little sad about it. There was one person he wanted to see that day and despite his best efforts, he never showed. Sometimes that’s how their line of work went though. It wasn’t always on a set schedule. Clint watched the city below him, cars still moving about like they always did.</p><p>“Excuse me, but do you have any idea where I can find an incredibly attractive yet clumsy blond disaster?” Clint felt his heart rate pick up and his eyes widened as he turned around. Bucky was tightly bundled up in a thick coat, gloves, scarf and a hat covering his hair that had to be pulled up in a bun. “He’s fuckin’ taller than he needs to be, has got the worst case of perpetual bed head, and has this smile that kinda drives me wild every time he flashes it. Hear he has a cast on his arm.”</p><p>“Mhhh, I dunno if I fit that profile but I’d like to,” Clint said as Bucky stepped up to him, grabbing him by his shirt and hauling Clint down into a kiss. Clint’s hands stayed attached to the railing behind him. “I thought you weren’t going to make it,” he said softly after he broke the kiss.</p><p>“I’m slightly hurt by the doubt but it’s deserved,” Bucky mused. “You don’t have near enough layers on. What are you doing? Trying to catch a cold?” Bucky asked.</p><p>“If I do, that means more boyfriend in bed cuddles,” Clint pointed out. “Just needed to get away for a bit, breathe. Want to sneak inside?”</p><p>“Your apartment,” Bucky said. He took Clint’s free hand and gave it a pull. “How the hell did you break your arm this time, hun?” he asked casually.</p><p>“I’m a man with many talents and shoes that come unlaced,” Clint answered, tucking himself against Bucky the moment they were in the elevator together. “I fell down the stairs.”</p><p>“You fell down the stairs,” Bucky repeated. “Christ. You look like a ballerina in a combat situation but you are clumsy as hell.”</p><p>“I only let my brain think so much in a day, Barnes. You can’t expect me to always be thinking.” Bucky laughed and shook his head.</p><p>They headed down the hallway and into Clint’s apartment. Before Bucky had left for two weeks they had decorated the place up for the holiday. Lights were hung in the window, little snowflakes painted in with window paint. Hand cut snowflakes hung from the ceiling, some had designed colored on while some were plain, something Clint hadn’t done since elementary school. Clint’s favorite was the string of popcorn around the tree. Bucky said it was tradition, and flicked Clint on the nose <em> with his metal fingers </em>when Clint started eating more than what he was putting on the string.</p><p>There were still some gifts under the tree, mostly gifts Bucky needed to hand out to people still. Clint had learned how to wrap presents this year because Bucky had made him take the time to do it. There were actual name tags, not stickers, and ribbons and bows galore. Everything was handled with as much care as they handled each other and Clint still couldn’t get over it.</p><p>Bucky Barnes made the holiday season for Clint. Even before they had started dating, Bucky seemed to take extra time with Clint, forcing him to decorate that first year just a little, just to test the waters. The second year Bucky had given Clint a tree. Now- nearly two years into their relationship Clint had joked that Chrstmas had thrown up in his apartment but he secretly loved it.</p><p>Clint collapsed on the couch with a sigh, his cheeks burning from the rapid change in temperature. His nose felt like it was on fire and he reached up to rub it before he grabbed his marker from his pocket. “You gotta sign my cast. It’s a rule that someone’s crush signs the cast.”</p><p>“I think we are a little past crush,” Bucky mused, sitting down, one leg tucked under him as he took the marker and wrote. “Good job, sport. Love, Bucky.”</p><p>Clint stared at Bucky. “.... you are kidding me, right?’ he asked. He looked at Bucky’s growing grin and pulled his arm closer. “Awww, Bucky, no. Why?” he asked, whining. Bucky’s laugh was verging on evil and Clint pouted. “Even Carol gave me a better one. <em> Carol </em>.”</p><p>“I think I can make it up to you,” Bucky promised. “Anyway, it’s payback for all the casts I’ve had to sign over the years.” Clint wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Wait here.” Bucky got up and headed for his bag. “Close your eyes, hold out your hands.”</p><p>“I’m not falling for that!” Clint shouted. “The last time you said that I was holding-”</p><p>“Just do it.” Clint smiled and closed his eyes and held out his hands. “I think you’ll like it this time.”</p><p>“I liked it last time too to be fair.”</p><p>“God, I hate you,” Bucky said as he laughed. “You are ruining the moment.” Clint mumbled a sorry as something soft touched his hands, not weighing more than a pound if that. “Alright, open’em,” he said as Clint felt Bucky sink down onto the couch next to him.</p><p>Clint hesitated before he opened his eyes and he stared at the bear that was sitting in his hands. The bear in his hands was dressed in all black and purple, a quiver slung around it’s back with little arrows peeking out. A pair of purple, felt sunglasses were stitched onto the bear’s head. One arm, his right arm, was wrapped up gauze, an afterthought but a touching addition. Clint’s hands shifted to hold the bear, his mind in complete awe.</p><p>Clint had a hard time finding Hawkeye merch. He was okay with not being the favorite, he actually preferred how little attention he seemed to get now that there were new members. But then on other days it brought back all the negative feelings he had over the years- the feeling of not being good enough, of doing so much wrong when he was younger than he wasn’t deserving of anyone’s time. It was something he was still working on, and something Bucky was helping him with.</p><p>“I know you’ve always wanted a Bucky bear,” Bucky said, pulling Clint out of his head. He looked up at Bucky’s gentle smile before his boyfriend wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Clint could feel the tears starting to sting his eyes. “But I dunno. I think this bear is even better than a Bucky bear. I know for a fact that he’s <em> my </em> favorite superhero.”</p><p>Clint huffed out a small laugh and kissed Bucky’s cheek before settling in against him. “That’s okay. I have something better than a Bucky bear now, anyway.”</p>
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